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Dads – they are your best friend as a youngster, then you fall out with them during your teenage years but we wouldn’t swap them.

On Father’s Day, we ask people what their dad means to them.

Jenny Eastwood - Editor

Editor Jenny Eastwood and her dad

My dad Tony is terrible to buy for. Every birthday, Christmas and father’s day I resist the temptation to buy him those smellies or more socks as he puts his toes through his others all the time. But really, the best gift you can give my dad is time – time with all of his children and grandchildren altogether.

He is the world’s biggest softie – always shedding a tear at the drop of a hat whether it is his beloved Leicester City winning the Premiership, a sad film or when we have to say goodbye after a weekend. He has such a big heart and massive brain for figures and television trivia from donkeys years ago.

We shared a love of bad American soaps as a child but like most dads and daughters, the teenage years were the wilderness years as I retreated to my Christian Slater poster filled bedroom, however I resurfaced to find a great bond with my dad which has only grown as I have gotten older.

He is almost retired now from the family business he started with my mum and that means they are always off on another foreign adventure together or just going away to chill by the pool in the Canaries. He is a fan of facebook and so we are always kept up to date with their trips with a sunny cold beer shot or 12 from a beautiful location.

This weekend, we won’t be together sadly. I live three hours away from my parents which is hard but that means the time together is so precious and so we make the most of it with lots of weekends full of booze, food and laughter. It gets harder to say goodbye but we always know that through mum’s organisation there will be another date in the diary soon.

He is simply the best dad around and is a great friend to myself and my husband as well as my father. I love him very much.

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There’s a song called ‘My Hero’ by Foo Fighters, and it always reminds me of my Dad.

Since the day I was hatched in 1988, he has been fully dedicated to fathering me to the best of his abilities, throughout the toughest of times.

From having to stand up all night and cradle baby me as I incessantly cried, to watching me graduate from University with tears in his own eyes – he’s been there.

He is My Hero because he’s done all of this and more, on his own.

His darling wife, my Mum, died of brain cancer when I was nine-years-old. My brother was 11 and my sister, seven.

Up until that point, we had had the absolute best childhood. Dad worked seven days a week to ensure that our Mum could be stay at home full-time. All three of us became intrinsically linked with her emotionally, and I look back blissfully as I think about her de-tangling my hair, reading books with me and marvelling at my enthusiastic dance routines to the Spice Girls.

Without my Dad, I wouldn’t have these sunny memories to reflect on in the darkest moments of grief.

It also makes it all the more amazing that he faced up to the challenge of going from workaholic, to stay at home Dad while battling his own grief. She was the love of his life.

But so were we. He re-trained so that his working hours fitted around the three of us – studying late into the night and taking up a 9-5.

He had to quickly learn about all things teenage girls – including frantic trips to the shops to pick up sanitary towels for weepy girls.

I can’t even begin to understand how he managed to do all of this, but that’s why to me he’s superhuman. I feel like the luckiest daughter in the world.

He’s given me a brute sense of determination to make my life the best it can be.

He’s encouraged me to be an independent woman by supporting (most) of the life decisions I make – and is ready with open arms and a strong cup of tea if it all goes wrong on the other side.

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We've heard the phrase strong and stable bandied about a lot in politics recently but if I was to reflect on what my dad means to me those two words are the first to spring to mind.

Through the quite considerable ups and downs of life my dad has been the one stood steadfastly by my side, urging me not to lose hope, to look at the bigger picture and keep going.

After my mum died 11 years ago we spent lots of time together reviewing folk and country music acts and enjoying holidays together in the New Forest, Wales, Sherwood Forest and Cornwall which brought out his fun and adventurous side - kayaking in the sea, trying out clay pigeon shooting and patiently playing crazy golf with me.

Dad is a man who is always there to help others. He’s first to volunteer if someone needs a hand - be it a neighbour, someone in the village or a family member.

In a constantly changing world my dad is a rock and at times a lighthouse too with his beacon of hope - shining an encouraging light on the rocky paths I’ve sometimes found myself wandering along.

His solid reassurance and fresh perspectives on issues have kept me going in the trickiest of times.

Dad’s also a great laugh, a brilliant furniture maker and the best bargain hunter I know.

I feel incredibly lucky to have such a wonderful dad. He’s very special and I hope he knows how much he means to me, my sister and my brother.